Carrying The Load
by Dingbat142001
Summary: Oneshot. "I can’t do this without you behind me." Oh, the angst! Movieverse.


**Title: Carrying The Load**

**Rating:** FRK  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Just the idea.  
**Spoilers:** The movie, I guess.  
**Summary: **Oneshot. "I can't do this without you behind me." Oh, the angst! Movieverse.

Just a short little Ficlet-thing…

* * *

In the years that she'd been working for him, she had never threatened to quit. Even when times were at their worst; when the alcohol flowed like Niagara Falls, the woman lined up in queue, and the press had their Christmas in months January through December over whatever stunt he had pulled to result in a disastrous PR nightmare, she had never threatened, nor spoke of the words of _'I quit'_ or some similar declaration for ceased servitude.

Not once.

Tony would often mule over that fact alone, and thank whatever deity that had the unfortunate position of watching over him, that apparently, _'I quit'_ was not in Pepper Potts' extensive vocabulary.

And then came Afghanistan.

And with it, Iron Man.

And now it seemed _'I quit'_ not only fit into Pepper Potts' own knowledge banks, but also moved in, unpacked, and settled onto the tip of her pink, hypothetically undeniably sweet tongue; just waiting for him to fly off on a mission that he might not come back from.

It seemed more times than not, she'd bring up _'I'd quit if…'_ or _'I'm not always going to be here…'_ or _'Then fire me!'_; all of which doing a fabulous job at unsettling him, distracting him, and driving him to the point of pure panic.

But each time one carefully worded sentence, by pure accident alone, would always bring her back before she even moved one foot.

_"You're not the first person to leave me."_

_"I don't have anyone else."_

_"I'm not crazy, Pepper. I just finally know what I have to do. And I know in my heart that it's right."_

But he couldn't really blame her this time.

It was suicide.

There was no _'I've had worse,'_ or _'How hard can it be?'_; there was just a crippling fear and a definite possibility that yes, this could be it.

He knew it.

She knew it.

Rhodey, Happy, Jarvis knew it.

Hell, even Dummy and his dejected sounding bleep, bloops and pings knew it.

But what other choice did Iron Man have?

None.

So, there he stood; robotic arms, ratchets and drills swirling around him, rising up from the floor and descending down from the ceiling.

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw her enter the workshop, and move to stand a few feet behind him. She looked like she knew she was about to lose her best friend.

There was a big chance she was.

"Jarvis, hold a minute," Tony said, just as the automatic arms holding the remaining helmet pieces lowered around his head. The machines stopped, leaving all but his head encased in titanium alloy. As it wasn't needed for the rest of the assembly, the launch pad folded in on itself, and disappeared below the floor.

Thumping his way over to her, he stood and watched as she bit her lip endearingly, and her eyes swept over the suit, as if searching for any sign of a potential weakness.

She found one right in the centre of his chest, and she dug her teeth further into her plump, whitening lower lip. Reaching up, she touched the arc, swirling her finger around it in a circle, before withdrawing her hand and shaking her head vigorously.

Stepping back from him, she held her hands up in some sort of barrier between them.

"I can't live like this, anymore. I refuse to watch you die."

'_Technically, you won't be,'_ he would have said, but he knew she wasn't in the mood, and she'd probably slug him. Knowing how angry she'd be at that, she'd probably leave a dent, too.

Lifting his gauntleted arms forward, he took her small hands in his large, bulky ones "I know the chances aren't good but-"

Wrenching her hands from his, she backed up to distance herself "Jarvis calculated the chances as just above infinitesimal!"

For all his whit, Jarvis sometimes lacked the understanding of spiteful sarcasm, "Technically, Ms. Potts, I-"

"Shut up, Jarvis!" both Tony and Pepper said at the same time, both looking at the other as if it were the last time they'd ever see each other. He'd almost had the happen a few other times before, and Tony'd be damned if he was going to let that happen again.

"Pep, I know the chances aren't good _but_," he reiterated again, "my chances are even less if I don't have you backing me up."

She shook her head again, titian hair whirling around her head in a red-gold halo.

"I said, I can't do this anymore, Tony!" Her hands moving to curl into fists before changing direction and position to point an accusing finger at him.

"You don't know what it's like; to sit here and wait; to stare out the windows or at the damn hole in the ceiling and hope, _pray_ that you come back. It's exhausting, it's draining, and it's painful!"

"Pepp-" Tony reached for her hand pointed at him, but she pulled it back.

"I know what you're doing. I understand. It's brave, it's selfless, it's heroic. I'm more proud of you than anyone can ever be of anyone, but I _can not_ just _wait_!"

"It doesn't matter where you are, Pepper." Tony said, taking advantage her need to breathe, "If you're in your living room, or in another state, or even in another country, I'm still going to be doing this. And you're still going to know _that_ I'm doing this."

"That's why I need to quit," she implored, "I need an escape, sometimes."

Looking at her sad eyes, Tony closed the distance between them and lightly gripped her upper arms. "Then quit," he acceded, "but be here when I get back."

She had been looking at his chest, but her head shot up when he agreed to her one demand. And then he spoke his, and she looked away.

Moving his right gauntlet, he hooked a finger under her chin and brought her attention back to him.

He was running out of time, but he couldn't leave her like this.

Holding her chin gently, intense brown met watery blue.

"I can't do this without you behind me."

A sob escaped her lips, and if it hadn't of been for the bulk of gold-titanium that had sometime wrapped around her waist, she would have crashed to the floor.

"Quit, resign, do whatever. I'm totally sexually harassing you right now, by the way" he said, not caring that if he _did_ by some stroke of luck, survive this, he'd lose her as a PA. "Just be here for me to come back to."

She bit her lip and looked at the ceiling as if in contemplation.

Moving his hands, he gently ran them down her arms to hold onto her petite hands. Holding them for a brief moment, them letting them go, he swept a lock of hair behind her ear before murmuring softly to her.

"Give me a reason to come home."

For what seemed like ages, she starred.

And then whatever was holding her immobile broke.

Closing the gap between, she ran her fingers through his hair as her lips met his in what only could be called perfection. Stunned momentarily, Tony's Iron Man hands wrapped around her waist and held her to him as the kiss depended.

Slowly breaking apart, he leaned his forehead to rest on hers, "Ok....that… I wasn't expecting that…"

She smiled slightly, still fully aware of this situation at hand, and hugged him tightly, "Is that a good enough reason?"

He chuckled, "Oh yeah."

He slowly kissed her lips one last time before pulling away and moving to stand under the automated arms still holding the helmet pieces.

Once complete, he turned to Pepper and gaze at her through the flipped up face plate. "You never said if you'd be here when I get back?"

"I'll keep the light on for you."

* * *

He could fly, which was surprising. A boot stabilizer was blown, chunks of the suit were dented, smashed, or just missing entirely, his communication was knocked out, but he still had the helmet, his ribs hurt, his arms hurt, his back hurt, his head hurt, and his left leg, in particular, was killing him – figuratively -, but he wasn't bleeding bad, he didn't have a concussion (that he assumed of, anyway), he didn't have any broken bones, and he was very much alive.

Whatever stoke of luck, indeed.

Taking more time than he would have liked to remove the suit, he showered, bandaged up any wounds he could, then hobbled his way (okay, he might have sprained an ankle) through the house.

Like she promised, the lights were on; strategically placed to lead him up the stairs, around the corner, and down the hallway to his room, where the door he usually left open, was now slightly ajar.

He would have gasped if it hadn't of hurt his ribs at the sight of the lump making purchase on the left side of his bed. As it was, he put more weight than intended on the doorknob leading to his room.

Limping a tad to the side of the bed he always slept on, it now being the other only unoccupied side, his eyes briefly glimpsed the glass of water and two Tylenols waiting for him. Taking the medication, he set the tumbler down, only to notice a sheet of paper lying on the blank surface of the glass tabletop.

Examining the piece of paper brought more details to light. It was, in fact, four pieces of paper, one sheet torn in quarters. Eyeballing what looked like a memo, he read the header title, and almost became dizzy with glee at the fact that it was torn up.

'_Letter of Resignation,' _

Slouching as easily as he could into the bed, he rolled over with a groan and smiled contentedly as the form beside him, too, rolled over and snuggled softly against him.

_"I can't do this without you behind me."_

But she wasn't.

She was beside him.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_ 10 billion points of awesomeness for those of you who've spotted all the clichés :P Randomly melodramatic. Like I mentioned one fic ago, the Gala continuation of WIDGIO is coming up, sometime after I finish my backlog of half-finished fics. Patience is a virtue.


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